Page 79 of Convict's Game

“Emilia Marchant is Convict’s girl?” The words were ashes in my mouth.

Lovelyn nodded, the concern in her eyes growing.

Further down the corridor, a door swung open, and Tyler emerged with another man behind. I could barely focus on how huge, beautiful Tyler instantly locked on me, or the fact the second guy wore fury that simmered.

In another life, Tyler could have been mine. Never in this one.

He still looked at me like I was his. That’s what made it worse.

Folding Lovelyn into one last hug, I squeezed her hands, whispered my goodbye, then fled.

“Dixie, wait,” she called.

I disappeared into the dark night.

It was better for everyone this way.

Chapter 28

Mila

The throbbing club beat sank through my body, and on the dance floor, Convict moved against me, his mouth on mine. He was okay with his friends. The relief it gave me was bigger than it should’ve been.

Possibly because I was a little drunk.

When I’d sat down at the booth with Cassie, Lovelyn, and Genevieve, a round of Espresso martini cocktails had magically appeared. I’d knocked mine back in a few gulps, then welcomed a second. I rarely drank so was a lightweight. The alcohol loosened me up nicely.

Convict put his mouth to my ear. “As much as I want to bend you over that rail and fuck you for all the club to see, there are better places to do that. Can I show you the rest of the warehouse? Maybe reward you for your unspoken confession somewhere along the way?”

Need surged in me, and I nodded. He caught my hand and led me out of the VIP area. I waved goodbye to the women to follow him out of the nightclub and through a corridor, a padded door opening into a darkened hallway with private rooms either side.

My heels sank into the plush carpet. Even the walls were velvet. This was part of the strip club, I guessed, though I wasn’t tempted to peer into any of the rooms.

I squeezed Convict’s hand. “Are those rooms used for…extras?”

“Men who aren’t brave enough to go up to the brothel? Yep.”

We emerged into a wide club with a busy bar and booths and seats facing a stage that extended out onto a catwalk.

Every seat was filled, almost exclusively with men. On the lit-up stage, barely dressed women performed, one either side of the main stage and a third at the end of the catwalk that split the room. All of them were knockout beautiful with bodies that had me staring.

When I glanced up at Convict, his gaze was on me.

“Many of the lasses who work here only dance. They make decent money from stripping, and that’s enough for them.”

I watched the nearest woman slide to the catwalk floor with a sexy bump that had the nearby men drooling.

The music changed to ‘Just Keep Watching’ by Tate McRae, the sultry beat indicating a switch up of the performance. The three dancers strutted off the stage, and the lights dimmed further.

Convict pressed a kiss to the side of my cheek. “Want to watch?”

I pulled his arms around me, not budging. At least for a minute, we could stay, just to satisfy my curiosity about the club. Plus there was an energy in the room I wanted to follow. An expectation of what was coming.

A new woman crossed the stage from the wings, whoops and hollers from the crowd marking her appearance. All eyes were on her, and with good reason. From the six-inch heels of her thigh-high boots up to her cascade of dark hair, she was captivating. Her breasts overspilled a silver bodysuit whichplayed peekaboo with the curves of her ass, and long gloves covered her arms.

On her saunter down the stage, she perused the avid audience like she was stalking prey, ensuring she had everyone’s attention locked on. She had nothing to worry about. The men were caught on every roll of her perfect hips.

At the end of the catwalk was a pole. The dancer circled it, her fingers trailing on the gleaming metal. Then at the beat, she gripped the pole and lifted herself effortlessly, spinning high in the air until she flipped upside down, one slow arm at a time peeling off the bodysuit to reveal glittering black lingerie and skin laced with ink.